


Challenging the Devil

by Uniasus



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Bullying, During the manga at some point but not entirely sure where, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1662683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uniasus/pseuds/Uniasus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wasn’t stupid.  Sena’s run was unique, particular, and after watching it being used to his advantage for years, Kazuki recognized it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Challenging the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> cross pointed from ff.net

He wasn’t stupid. Sena’s run was unique, particular, and after watching it being used to his advantage for years, Kazuki recognized it. A bit. He only saw the beginning and ending of the errands run to be frank, and never paid attention to the footwork. But he knew Sena was fast. And the position of his run. So it was easy for him to make the connection that Eyeshield 21 was Kobayakawa Sena. It only took a couple of times seeing him run.

It made him angry at first. Not only was Sena no longer his to push around, but on the amefuto team, he was a star. Fast legs, golden legs. Kazuki was simply a hired thug, whose payment was suppressed black mail.

It was infuriating! That little punk! Better than him and his pals! Sena needed to be taught a lesson, that there was no such thing as a zero like him who could make it to the top.

But while the idea steamed and simmered in his mind, he never acted on it. Why waste time on such a useless kid? It wasn’t worth his time. But that was an excuse and he knew it. It was because a blonde devil’s eyes were always looking at him, daring him, and Kazuki knew no one won when going against the devil.

So he didn’t try.

But amefuto, that was something different. He _learned_ , learned what it was about. About putting your body on the line, you pride. About achieving something against insurmountable odds. About making a name for yourself. For others. About being the best you could be, constantly going into battle, getting better. About self-worth.

Even though he was still behind Sena, in so many ways, it began to not matter so much. That boiling pot of hatred, of jealously, cooled to a simmer, and then to something lukewarm, bubbles only occasionally reaching the top. Oh, it was still there, don’t get him wrong, but…

The devil stopped looking at him. He didn’t even notice when he had stopped.

Sena never shared a locker room with them until after the game against the Bando Spiders, until after it was out to the world whose face was behind that green sheet of plastic. Eyeshield 21 and Kobayakawa Sena had been two separate people before than. And now, now that they were one, that everyone knew (and how could people not know? That run was so unique) the team changed together.

It was the bruises he saw, after that game, that made that pot in the back of his chest disappear. Football was a brutal sport, even with the padding, and Sena was so tiny. So easily damaged. He was bruised all around his middle, with concentrations on his chest and back. A few on his legs, but not much. Kazuki couldn’t help but look at them, out of the corner of his eye. Did Sena always bruise that much? After every game? Every practice? Every time he had gotten beaten up? How could he act like he didn’t have them?

The devil noticed him looking, Kazuki could feel those eyes on his back, different from how they had felt earlier in the year, but projecting the same message. _Mess with him, and die._

But he had no plans do such a thing. Not after what he learned from those bruises. He learned about teamwork. About hard work. About how to take it, how to give it your all. And that little Koboyakawa Sena was no longer a little punk. He was a fellow traveler on this route to manhood, to the championship, to the top. A teammate. And, as he realized when the brunette caught him staring and said ‘don’t worry about my bruises, I’m fine’, a brother in arms.

Somewhere along the line Sena had come to think of him as a friend. Kazuki wanted to say the same, but something held him back. And this time is wasn’t the devil in the room.

It was what he saw before practice one day. They were both a little late, being on clean-up duty that day, and so they were the only ones in the locker room at the time. He took a look at Sena, looking for bruises to judge how hard he should be on the runner today, and he saw scars.

They were faint, so they were obviously old. But they made something clench in his stomach. Sena didn’t do anything dangerous. Okay, amefuto was pretty high up there, but he had only started that this year. Those scars weren’t from the American sport. They weren’t from some type of activity the runner had participated in earlier. All of them were the results of childhood trauma, by his hands.

Without thinking about it, Kazuki reached out his fingers to touch a set of faded starbursts on Sena’s back. He never thought about what his bulling would have done to Sena. He knew it would leave bruises, shed blood, but the potentiality of scars had never entered his head. What caused this one?

An image flashed in his head, of shoving a younger Sena into a locker. The coat hook in it had be broken, the smooth metal balls replaced by forked rough metal. They had pierced Sena’s clothes, entered his skin, Kazuki had seen the blood on the locker wall when he pulled the brunette out, on that small back when he took off running to do the requested errand.

Sena was still under his hands, not turning, barely breathing.

“Give me you arm,” he said, and Sena did. Placidly, obediently, and for some reason that pissed Kazuki off. Sena was a strong player, a person in his own right, and shouldn’t be so passive in the face of commands.

He turned Sena’s arm over and over until he found what he’s looking for. More scars, so faint so he can barely see them and it was a miracle he found them. But they’re there. Not all his handiwork, but they as good as were. If he didn’t do it, his pals did, with Kazuki watching and encouraging.

“How can you not hate me?” he asked in a whisper.

Sena looked confused. “For what?”

“I was evil.”

Sena shook his head. “Agon is evil. You’re not. I always knew that. Besides, without you, I wouldn’t be as fast as I am now. So I guess I owe you for that one.”

Kazuki shook his head, but it’s a humorous shake. He dropped Sena’s arm, and they both got back to getting into their uniforms for practice.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For, all that stuff.”

The runner paused, hands still on his pads from adjusting them. “Don’t worry about it Juumonji-san. We’re friends now.”

And now, with that bit of forgiveness, he can agree. “In that case, you can call me Kazuki-kun. I’ve been calling you ‘Sena-kun’.”

Sena smiled.

They head out, fully dressed a minute later. Kazuki could feel those devil eyes on him again once they are in sight of the field. Nothing escapes the devil’s knowledge, and somehow Himura-san knew that something changed between them.

“Fucking shrimp!! Get you ass over here!”

“Hiiii!” Sena exclaimed, part startlement, part fear.

Kazuki took his time; thinking, trading glares with the devil. On the field, he protected Sena from the opponents, opened paths. As a friend, shouldn’t he do the same things off the field? Sena had no backbone off the field, no self confidence, and Kazuki knew he was responsible for that as much as he was responsible for the scars on the brunette’s body.

And the result was Sena trapped in the devil’s snare.

Kazuki would never take amefuto away from Sena, it was too important now, to both of them. But that didn’t mean it had to be filled with following orders unquestionably, saying yes to everything, following a leader till he was ruined. Because Kazuki could see that, see Sena following the orders of the quarterback and straining his body not just to the breaking point, but beyond it, until his dreams were hollow husks and the thrill of competing a wistful memory. The devil would do that, use and use until there was nothing left.

It would take a while, Sena never reached that point with him, but the devil was harsher. It was possible.

He glared at the blonde devil, gun resting on his shoulder, somehow as sharp and pointy at the tip as his ears, hair, and teeth. Was that a knife attached to the end of it?

If Hiruma-san thought Mamori-chan was bad, just wait until he discovered what a male version could do.

After all, Sena and amefuto had taught him things. About hard work. About how to take it, how to give it your all. About achieving something against insurmountable odds. And if Sena could battle with the gods of amefuto, certainly Kazuki could battle with it’s devil.


End file.
